5 Questions Nobody Asked Billy Batson
by sour gummies
Summary: He'd been four. He'd been six. He'd been seven. Something good had to happen eventually. Right? —Origin fic, mentions of child abuse. Anon fic meme fill.


a/n: so, the prompt was, 'wow, Billy got his powers when he was only _seven_ on Earth-16, isn't that adorable?'

AND THEN I WENT AND RUINED IT.

* * *

**–1–**  
_"Do your parents know about Captain Marvel?"_

"My parents are – "

"Dead, Billy," the woman said, softly, kneeling before him with her hands on his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. There was an accident during their expedition. They're gone."

Billy's head swam feverishly. This couldn't be real. It couldn't. He was just sick. He was imagining all this because he was sick. That was why his family had gone to all the way Egypt without him, right? Because he wasn't well.

(they had gone but they had _promised to come back _they had promised)

"Billy, honey, you need to come with me now," the woman said softly, cupping his face with her hand to get his attention. "Your uncle – your Uncle Ebenezer says he can't take care of you right now, so we have to find you a new family to stay with. Okay? Billy?"

(he hadn't wanted him)

Billy shook his head and coughed weakly, trembling all over. He didn't want to think about his uncle, or a new family, or any of that. This was just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. "M-Miss? Where's Mar– "

"We can talk about it on the way to the group home," the woman said soothingly, taking him firmly by the hand as she stood. Billy wiped his face on his sleeve and obediently followed, swaying from dizziness with every step he took.

**–2–**  
_"How old were you when you lost them?"_

Four. He'd been four.

_Smile, honey, we'll be back soon. Put on a smile for me, that's a good boy. You be good while we're gone, okay? Be good._

Billy wanted to be good.

**–3–**  
_"Did you miss them?"_

"Please?" Billy begged, tugging on the fabric of his foster mother's dress. "Please one more story?"

She spun around to face him, scowling furiously as she adjusted the baby on her hip. "I told you I don't _know _any more!" she shouted, drawing back her free hand as if to strike him.

Billy cowed, throwing up his arms to protect himself, and the woman sighed, slowly lowering her arm.

"Look, Billy," she said, in the tone of voice that Billy knew meant _I-am-calm-now-but-not-if-you-keep-talking-to-me,_ which meant he'd pushed her too far. "All I know is, your parents were some kind of treasure-hunters or archeologists, or something. Grave-diggers. They went to Egypt and died, and you came here. To live with us." She sighed angrily, shifting the baby again. "Now will you _drop _it?"

Billy nodded silently, hardly satisfied, but knowing better than to try again. His foster mother turned around without another word and walked to the kitchen, probably to get more formula for the baby.

Billy knew she was busy. There were three other kids besides him to look after, so it was probably a big waste of her time trying to ask for stories about his parents. He was six years old, and he was big enough to not need dumb stories. Everyone had said so.

So Billy dropped into an armchair and curled up alone, trying to forget his sadness. Absentmindedly, he fingered one of the bruises on his arms, painful reminders that he'd be better off keeping his questions to himself. He still _wanted _to talk about his mom and dad, though. Maybe it would help him remember them. What their faces looked like. Their names.

The sudden realization that he had forgotten _all _of that made Billy completely break down, biting down hard on his hands to muffle his sobs. He didn't want to disturb the rest of his foster family. He wanted to be good.

(didn't he have a sister but he can't remember her he can't)

**–4–**  
_"So then, how did you become Captain Marvel?"_

Billy was alone, shell-shocked and abandoned in an unfamiliar alleyway. It was over. For good this time. They'd left him here and they weren't coming back.

(get out they'd said, you ungrateful brat don't **ever **show your face here again)

He'd been given up by foster parents before, but this was different. This time, they had actually _kicked him out, _tossed him out on the street with only a backpack and a few dollars to his name. They hadn't wanted him. Nobody wanted him.

"I just tried to make them stop hurting the other kids," Billy mumbled angrily through tears, shivering bodily in the alleyway. Fawcett City was cold in the wintertime, and now it was the end of December. "I only wanted to help."

He wiped his eyes. Crying never solved anything.

_"Put on a smile for me, that's a good boy.  
You'll feel better if you smile about it."_

Billy couldn't remember anymore, who had told him that.

(but they were _important_ the words were _important_)

He had nowhere to turn, nowhere to go. His parents might as well have been strangers in his own memory. He could remember nothing of his former life – the family who had supposedly loved him, the relatives who had so easily given him up – he could think of nothing before the endless foster homes, blending together like faded scenery. He tried to be good, and it never worked.

But, if he just _kept _trying. Something good had to happen eventually.

Right?

Either way, it was too cold outside. Maybe it would be warmer in the subway. He could…he could think of something there. Billy shuddered, once, then slowly clambered to his feet and began to walk.

"H-Happy New Year, Batson," he muttered to himself through chattering teeth, forcing a smile.

Maybe he was imagining it, but the staircase that descended to the subway platform seemed to be shining faintly, with a warm white light. Almost like it was calling for him.

(he hadn't believed magic was real, not until he saw the Wizard in the subway)

**–5–**  
_"How old were you?"_

"Seven years," Shazam said gravely, one wrinkled hand placed on Billy's forehead in absolution. "Far too young for the burden I am casting upon you. I am only sorry it couldn't wait until you were ready, child."

Billy looked up at him with wide eyes. "You're…You're really giving _me _magic? Sir?"

The Wizard looked down at him with piercing eyes. "None could be more worthy than you, Billy Batson."

"So then – I can use it to help them?" Billy asked feverishly, desperate. No more people hurting. No more bad things he couldn't stop. "So I can do good?"

Shazam closed his eyes, and Billy couldn't know, how much his words were hurting him. "Yes."


End file.
